Rest On Your Bike
Recently, my wise friend Lorna shared a quote by S.C. Lourie that resonated with me:
"Breathe, darling. This is just a chapter. It's not your whole story."
Can I share one of my chapters with you?
Many years ago, I was recently married to a hard-core mountain biking fanatic. And back then, I was a chameleon. I pretended to like racing down mountains. I wanted to seem cool, adventurous, and worthy of admiration.
One Sunday afternoon, I had survived three downhill rides, and we'd made it to the fire road. Completely out of breath, I begged: "Can we take a break?"
Without skipping a beat or turning his head back in my direction, he said: "Just rest on your bike."
I nearly fell off my bike. I was so angry and bewildered. *How in the world was I supposed to rest ON my bike?*
I came to appreciate that the speed at which I move forward is completely up to me.
He must have felt the daggers shooting from my eyes into the back of his head. He said, "You know, put it in the baby gear and keep pedaling."
It's been more than 20 years since that smoking hot day in the foothills of South Carolina. And since then, I've sometimes felt as exhausted and weary as I did on my bike that day, like when:
- A client project was already three days late and the flu was making its way through our house.
- It looked like my oldest son wouldn't graduate from high school because he quit turning in all his schoolwork.
- Unresolved conflict made extended family gatherings feel more like a tug-of-war than a place to call home.
In those moments, I would hear David's words: "Rest on your bike." And I came to appreciate them.
Newton discovered that an object in motion stays in motion. I came to appreciate that the speed at which I move forward is completely up to me.
I've learned, over time, to put my life in the little gear and keep pedaling. To go as slow as I need to go.
As tough as it gets, there's only one thing I won't do: get off my bike, throw it to the ground, and stop.
Here's my question for you: even if you're feeling completely overwhelmed, drained, sad, angry, hurt, worried, and want to give up, can I help you find a way to rest on your bike? To stay in the tiniest bit of motion? So that when you're ready, you'll re-emerge with the momentum of all you've created throughout your whole story?
Remember, this is just a chapter.
A Third, Invisible Option That Could Change Everything
Our binary brains ask should I or shouldn't I. There is a third question underneath that one, and it changes what you can see.
Are You Willing to Quit?
Five words I ask myself whenever the work feels bigger than I am. The answer arrives faster than you would think.
Every so often I write one of these before it is finished, and send it to whoever wants it.
No schedule, no pitch. An invitation, something worth passing along, or a question I have been asking myself that day.
